


Cold and Dark Spaces

by Just_A_Poor_Boy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby’s first fic, Boggart, Child Abuse, Gen, Harry Needs a Hug, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Liberal use of Italics, Pre-Slash, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, This is probably way too American to be accurate, alternate title: there’s no way Harry is not traumatized in more obvious ways, do I care about how much I just ruined canon?, has needed one for about ten years, he tries, no, no beta we die as the great lesbian above intended, the reason hermione’s hair is so big is cause it’s full of secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Poor_Boy/pseuds/Just_A_Poor_Boy
Summary: Chills shook Harry’s spine. Your worst fear. He wondered what would his look like. A brief recounting of a woman’s screams while impenetrable cold bore on him crossed his mind, but was wiped away by the crashing images of dark, cold spaces with shouting voices and reaching hands. Feeling more than a little queasy, Harry hoped his boggart wouldn't be what he thought it was.Or: Harry shows actual, unsubtle signs of his trauma and Lupin doesn’t stop him fast enough
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Cold and Dark Spaces

The room was abuzz with thinly veiled excitement, which was a pleasant change from the boredom and downright animosity from years prior. From the five minutes Harry has known Lupin— not including the incident on the train— he seems to be alright. No one who knows a spell that can cram chewing gum up a poltergeist’s nose can be all that bad. At least, Harry thinks. Hermione's eyes meet his before he turns away, giving him the distinct impression that she knew exactly what he had been thinking and disapproved. Biting back the urge to comment about Hermione's own lack of judgment when it had come to Professor Lockhart (and _bloody hell_ , that was almost the worst part of the year— ignoring the fact that Ginny had been kidnapped and Harry had been poisoned), Harry pushed his attention back to Professor Lupin.

Chills shook Harry’s spine after watching Neville have his go, even as everyone else roared in laughter. Your worst fear. He wondered what would his look like. A brief recounting of a hearing a woman’s screams while impenetrable cold emanating from ink-black robes sunk icy claws in his mind, but was wiped away by the crashing images of dark, cold spaces with shouting voices and reaching hands. Feeling more than a little queasy, Harry hoped his boggart wouldn't be what he thought it was. Less than eager to face that, especially in front of his year-mates, Harry tried to meander to the back of the group.

"Harry, mate." Ron's hand had a sudden, white-knuckle tight grip on his upper arm. "You and I both know what's coming out of that wardrobe."

Harry suppressed the urge to hop on his Nimbus 2000 and fly until his body collapsed. "We do?"

Ron stared at him incredulously. Memories of Ron, George, and Fred peering at him out of the windows of their father's flying Ford Anglia rise to the forefront of Harry's mind, in tandem with the bile from his stomach. _He knows_ , Harry thought wildly, color draining from his face. _He_ _knows._

"Well yeah." Ron shook Harry a little, looking sympathetic. "You remember now, though. You look as bad as I feel."

Yes, Harry remembered. They had seen the cupboard. Had opened the lock from the outside and stolen his school trunk; had picked the _numerous_ locks outside the bedroom door and broken the bars on the window; had seen the cat flap the Dursley's had used to give him his meager scraps of food. He knew, they knew, and if Ron knew, Harry would bet his entire bank's worth of gold that Hermione knew, too.

Ron nods sagely. "Disgusting, right? At least we have each other though, mate. The two of us can take on whatever type of spider that comes outta that thing."

A wave of relief, so strong it made Harry's knees buckle, hit him. Spiders, Ron had been talking about spiders, _his_ worst fear.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, smiling weakly. "You and me, mate."

Ron beamed at him, but the smile was quickly dimmed by the sight of only two more people in front of him.

”Merlin, I’m going to be sick.”

Harry shared the sentiment. 

Watching Ron cast _Riddikulus_ did nothing to soothe Harry’s errant nerves. Swallowing, Harry stepped forward. Lupin made a motion with his hand, but that was drowned out by the roar of adrenaline in Harry’s ears. He felt like he was mid-dive for the snitch with no less that seven bludgers after his blood with a vindication greater than even Hermione chasing obscure knowledge.

There was a pause in the air, loaded and heavy the way Harry imagined a Muggle gun would feel. The dramatic recounting of near deaths and lingering giggles stalled and evaporated into the air. It seemed everyone wanted to know what Harry’s greatest fear was.

Harry was near swooning, a heady shot of panic flushing all rational thoughts from his head. Hermione was drawn up to her full height behind him, Harry could practically feel the imperious way her nose had risen and how she had postered herself behind Harry the second he had moved forward, wand ready. Harry felt a flash of gratitude before the tell-tale crack of the boggart’s transformation hurled everything from his brain.

A small, white-washed cupboard with a lock on the outside stood, menacing in it’s innocence. It was worn around the edges, and the details of the wall were hazy. All that seemed to exist was the cupboard.

Whispers echoed in the background, white noise to Harry. The door creaked open, and in it Harry could make out every smidgeon of it. The boxes in the corner, the spider webs stubbornly clinging to the rafters, the single lightbulb that sputtered more than it worked, the jaunty, dingy edges of the cot hidden under a worn blanket that was tucked away in the corner.

 _Yes_ , Harry thought with some hysteria, his eyes the only thing about him that was unfrozen as they roved the area, _it’s all there._

The cupboard beckoned with the quiet, iron summon it always had. It was so dark, darker than he remembered. His feet took automatic steps towards it, his shoulders hunching and gaze dropping instinctively. ( _HurryhurryhurryouchnopleasewhywouldyoudonthurryquickernoquestionsHURRY_.)  
  
“ _Depluso_!”

Magic made the visage of the cupboard fly back into the wardrobe with an echoing bang. Feeling weak (so, so utterly _weak_ ), Harry collapsed, the shouts of “HARRY” pinging around his skull like bullets as black (dark as dementor robes, his cupboard, the Snape’s eyes) sucked him in.

**Author's Note:**

> Well! That’s all Folks. My very first fic, and I’m happy to have done it in the Harry Potter fandom. I’m cool with any criticism you may have :)


End file.
